


Where Two Streets Meet

by somedayisours



Category: Whiplash (2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, POV Outsider, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedayisours/pseuds/somedayisours
Summary: Ingrid recalls studio band six years on with the help of some pills and the not-yet-famous reporter, Layton Chase.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Where Two Streets Meet

Ingrid Closs is the fourth of Fletcher's former students—that Layton's managed to track down—that had all so shared a class with Andrew Neiman. She's much more open about her time at Shaffer under the infamous Terrance Fletcher after a couple of shots of tequila and a line ground Percocet.

"Yeah, Fletcher was crazy but, I don't know, if you did your thing and weren't a drummer—or Neiman for that matter—you'd be fine."

"Drummer? Neiman?"

"I'd say percussion, but he really only went after drummers, and Neiman was a step up even from that crazy."

And that right there's some real meat for Layton to chew on. Andrew Neiman is less up-and-coming now, and more of an established musician, but he and Fletcher are seen as a solid team.

"Think Fletcher's still pulling the same shit with Neiman? Aren't you worried about that?"

"I don't know," she gives an irritated sigh, looking across the dinner at the group of teens that'd all come stumbling in from the cold together. "Thought he was innocent, or something, at the start, but no, the two of them were on the same fucked up wavelength."

"Uh, how so?"

"I can see what your doing," Ingrid warns as she reaches across the table for Layton's glass of Dr. Pepper, taking a long drink. "That's disgusting," she says as she puts it back in front of him. "Like, early in, Fletcher almost took his head off with a symbol. Smacked him around a couple of times too, from what I know."

"Did you see this?" Layton asks, leant forward and almost... Excited.

"Some of it, yeah." Her eyes are back on the teens, they're seated now with a nice row of overlapping menus covering their table. "Saw the symbol. Scared the shit out of me, flashbacks to childhood, ya know."

Layton nods, hunched over the napkin he's taken to scribbling everything down on, not really paying attention to her.

"Did you know that a previous student of Fletcher's killed himself?"

"Oh, yeah," she seems to perk up immediately at the shift in topics, "kind of like a local ghost story for us students."

She's taken to tearing her napkin into thin strips, and then into even smaller squares, still thinking about studio band under Fletcher with Neiman in the room.

Seeming to have sensed the break in their conversation, Cathy, their waitress, descends on their table with a plate in each hand to deposit with a customer service smile firmly affixed to her face.

"Is there anything else I can get for either of you?"

"Act—"

"Nah," Layton cuts over, "We're good for now."

Cathy simply turns to Ingrid, waiting for her to finish.

"What he said," she agrees with a shrug.

"Well then, call me if you need anything else, okay."

"Will do," Layton interrupts again, eager to shoo the waitress off it seems.

She sweeps away to take the teen's orders with no further comments.

"Hmm," Layton says around a mouthful of food, "What did ya mean 'on the same wavelength'? Was Neiman throwing shit at you, at his girlfriend, like Fletcher did to him?" Layton has tried talking to Nicole. She was colder than Ingrid was when sober, like trying to talk to a brick wall instead of a woman.

"Um, Neiman tried to strangle Fletcher, and I mean to death. Whole bunch of witnesses too. Didn't press charges, and Neiman was back on drums a couple of months later like nothing ever happened. Psychos were made for each other."

Layton doesn't know what to say to that because he's heard rumblings of something, but nothing that far.

"Talk about fucking toxic." She continues, working herself up as if she's back in the classroom watching it happen all over again. "Honestly, half expected to wake up one morning and come into class to find out Neiman had killed Fletcher the night before, or something. Kinda wish he had."

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of hate this but I'm unwilling to let it rot with everything else.


End file.
